


Lily and Linen

by transrich



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alpha Eddie Kaspbrak, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bowers is a creep, Breeding Kink, Comedian Richie Tozier, Depression, Driver Eddie Kaspbrak, Henry Bowers Being an Asshole, Mentions of Breeding, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Canon Compliant, Omega Richie Tozier, Porn with Feelings, haven't decided if this will include any type of mpreg but for now it doesn't, love that that's a tag, no beta we die like men, omega drop, they are adults
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transrich/pseuds/transrich
Summary: Richie Tozier has a secret. It's not that he's bisexual. God, no. He's plenty open about that during his stand-up--Trashmouth is out now on Netflix!--but there's one that he's not telling. And he knows nobody will believe it if he told them anyway, so for once, he'll keep his mouth shut.Eddie Kaspbrak has a secret, too. As a celebrity chauffeur, it's better to keep his personal life...personal. He's never met anyone he wanted to tell, anyway. So it's going to stay quiet.Two men. Two secrets. High-profile jobs. It's only a matter of time before the truth comes out.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 61
Kudos: 134





	1. Richie

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first a/b/o fic so please be gentle  
> i know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but i have plenty of other fics for you to read if you're not into it so dw  
> enjoy my loves

The first thing Richie noticed when he got into the car was that there was no smell. Well, there was that fakey pine scent from the tree dangling from the rearview, and an underlying tone of disinfectant, but that was it. And that was strange. Because he was used to being bombarded by scents, alphas and omegas assaulting his senses. Even betas had their own faint scent...but there was nothing. “Do you use scent blockers to seem more professional?” Richie asked. His stand-up special wasn’t called  _ Trashmouth _ for nothing. People usually didn’t like it when you brought up presentations out of nowhere, but he was severely lacking a filter. He’d just managed to make a career out of it. 

“Wha--why do you care?” the driver snapped. Seemed he was like everyone else. It was a shame, too; he was hot. Granted, Richie could only see his eyes, bright and angry as he glared at traffic through the rearview, but that was enough for him. Windows to the soul, the eyes were. At least, that’s what his dad had told him. 

Richie shrugged. “I don’t, really. I was just curious. Most taxi drivers don’t care about their scents, unless they’re omegas.” Without the scent, Richie couldn’t get a read on the guy. His aggressive nature pointed to alpha, but Richie knew better than most that a person’s first impression meant nothing about presentations. Most omegas were small, both in stature and personality, but Richie’s big shoulders and bigger disposition kept people guessing.

“What about you?” the driver shot back, in lieu of answering. “Most celebrities don’t care about their scents either.” Richie could hear the sneer in  _ celebrities. _ “And I’m a chauffeur, not a taxi driver. Not that you care.” He scoffed and rolled down the window. “Hey, watch where you’re driving, dickhead!” he shouted, honking his horn. 

Richie leaned back and smirked. He liked this guy already. “Public knows everything about me. I figure with blockers, I can at least keep one part of my life secret,” he explained once the driver seemed to have settled. “Hey, you know my name, right? You have to, ‘cause Jason called you--well, anyway, you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

The driver seemed to contemplate answering him before he finally sighed. “Edward Kaspbrak, although you’d know that if you bothered to look up my company yourself.” Richie caught his eyes rolling in the rearview. “But no, you’re all too busy with your stand-up and fucking omegas to bother--”

“You know my stand-up?” Richie excitedly interrupted. “Don’t lie to me, Eduardo, I bet you’ve seen my specials. Front row seat every time.”

“Or I just looked you up so I would know who I was dealing with,” Edward countered. “And it’s Edward, not...Eduardo.” 

Richie waved him off. This taxi driver--chauffeur, whatever--was not gonna bring him down today. He was riding the high of a successful show, and now he was going to a party of elites. Comedians weren’t exactly high on the list of New York aristocrats, but when you were friends with Paris Fashion Week headliner Beverly Marsh, it was easier to pull strings. That reminded him; he had a new suit to put on. He took his jacket off and began unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Woah, woah, woah! What the hell do you think you’re doing, Tozier?” 

Richie looked up to see Angry Edward’s eyes on him, again, through the mirror. He wondered if he’d be able to take the stare if it was directly turned on him, or if he’d just turn to stone. “I’m...changing?” His own eyes widened and he laughed. “What, did you think I was coming onto you? Gonna climb into the front seat and mark you?” Edward’s eyes turned stormy, and Richie became abruptly aware he’d gone too far. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did Edward. He changed his shirt and jacket and stopped there; the tension was way too thick for him to want to take off his pants. 

The rest of the ride was awkwardly silent, and Richie felt guilty for being the one to make it that way. He usually didn’t go that far; maybe he should’ve known better than to mess with a stranger. Or maybe this guy was just too sensitive. Maybe he was an omega after all.

When Edward pulled up to the skyscraper, Richie wasted no time in grabbing his suit and getting out. Before he walked away, though, he turned to the still-open driver’s window. “Hey, I know Jason already paid you, but...thanks. And I’m sorry for before.” He took out a hundred and handed it over, a gesture he was surprised to see Edward accept. Surprised, yet relieved, was Richie to see that there was no wedding band on his hand when he took the bill. A mate mark could’ve been hidden by the high-collared shirt he wore, but his earlier reaction made that unlikely. The man was even more attractive when Richie could see his whole face. His lips were thin, although Richie thought that was more from impatience than natural shape. His eyes were big and slightly downturned, giving him a sad sort of look when his eyebrows weren’t knitted in anger. His forehead wrinkled in a way Richie would’ve called cute if he didn’t think it would get him slapped. They looked at each other for what seemed like far too long before Edward responded.

“Thanks, Mr. Tozier.” That was all. Curt, polite...and yet it seemed like he was holding something back. 

Richie grinned, for some reason wanting desperately for the other man to smile back. “Please. Call me Richie. Mr. Tozier was my father.” 

Edward’s lips turned up just slightly. Richie counted that as a win. “I’d keep that in mind if I ever thought we were going to see each other again,” he said wryly, only making Richie’s smile bigger.

“Oh, believe me, darlin’,” Richie drawled, causing one of Edward’s eyebrows to quirk, “I plan to see you again.” He winked, and suddenly the other man’s face reverted to that already-familiar scowl. “Have a good night, Edward Kaspbrak.” He turned and began walking away, nearly getting hit by a biker in the process. He didn’t turn again, which meant he missed how the driver chuckled before pulling away from the curb. He did, however, hear the loud honking as Edward yelled at an oncoming taxi, and smiled to himself.

* * *

The building was crowded from the moment Richie came in, making his head swirl. He ducked low, trying to avoid any unnecessary conversations. If he was being honest, his manager wanted him here more than he did. He just wanted to make a quick appearance, find Bev and get wasted together in a private room, and leave in the back of an Uber in which he could never be entirely sure if he would make it out alive. Still, he knew Jason would want him to network. He never got the point of “networking.” The people who didn’t know him usually didn’t care that they didn’t know him, and he was more than happy to keep it that way. He was perfectly happy with his level of fame. Comedy specials on Netflix, appearances on Saturday Night Live, and the occasional groupie trying to catch him on the way out of Radio City. It seemed pretty good to him.

Richie took his time changing in the bathroom, his head spinning with the scent of already-drunken alphas. He couldn’t pick out an individual scent, but it was all musky and way too strong. At this rate, he wouldn’t even need a drink himself. He held his old suit as he stumbled out of the stall and into one of the alphas.  _ Bowers _ . He should’ve recognized the scent, but maybe it was because he and his cronies all smelled the same. Like cheap liquor and rusty metal. 

“Tozier!” Bowers greeted, clapping him on the back. “Good to see ya, I thought you wouldn’t show up!” Henry Bowers was one of those men you had to invite because he could ruin your career if you didn’t, and you had to invite the rest of his men because they had ties to Bowers. He ran the city’s largest gossip magazine, which was surprisingly popular given the rise of technology. Maybe they had a website, although Richie wasn’t sure how, since he was fairly certain Bowers didn’t know how to use a computer. Henry had, for some reason, latched onto Richie, and he spent most of his time at these parties trying to avoid him. 

“Bowers, good to see you, man.” Richie wrapped an arm around Bowers in greeting, although he quickly dropped it. “How’re things?  _ Red _ going well?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all great. Listen, Tozier, whaddya say I buy you a drink and we can talk some more? You’re friends with Beverly Marsh, right?” Bowers leaned in and Richie felt the discomfort coursing through his body increase ten times. 

“Yeah! Yeah, Bowers, maybe some other time. I’m just dropping in, I’m not planning to stay--” Richie carefully extricated himself from Bowers’ grasp and started opening the door. “I’ll talk to you later, really looking forward to it--!” And with that, he shut the door and bolted up the stairs.

Richie was not an athletic person by any means, which meant he was sweating by the time he found Bev. Running away from Bowers so often should’ve made him a pro, but he usually didn’t have to battle one thousand guests, one thousand scents, and what felt like one thousand stairs to get away. He wiped his forehead with the handkerchief Bev produced from seemingly nowhere and thanked her through wheezes. Once he finally caught his breath, he explained. “Bowers was on my tail again, and this time he wanted to talk about you.” They shared twin grimaces. “You look gorgeous, by the way. This one of yours?” He gestured to Bev’s dress, silken and a shade of lavender that should’ve clashed with her fiery hair but instead only accentuated it. 

She grinned proudly. “A Marsh original,” she declared, before putting her hand on his shoulder. “You alright?” she said lowly. “I know all these scents can be overwhelming--”

Richie shook his head to cut her off. He couldn’t risk someone overhearing, even in this noisy hall. “Just stay next to me,” he murmured. One familiar alpha scent was enough to combat all of the others. Beverly smelled like freshly mown grass and cinnamon, a combination that shouldn’t’ve worked but did. They had been best friends since middle school, and had been through everything together. Their presentations occurred in close timing to each other, and they helped each other through every step of the way. Richie had been right by Bev’s side when she testified against her abusive father, and celebrated with her when she’d won the case. He was there again at her engagement to famous architect Ben Hanscom, and man of honor at her wedding. They could read each other in a second, which was how Bev knew to pull both Richie and her husband into a side room. “You two stay here, and I’ll get us drinks,” she ordered, leaving them no choice but to shrug and sit down in the cushy chairs decorating the room. 

Ben was another example of a non-traditional omega, which made Richie feel slightly better every time he saw him. He was broad and husky, with a full beard and a voice that could command a room. Richie always joked that they were all lucky he chose to use his powers for good instead of evil, because he’d never met a more persuasive omega. Ben was normally soft-spoken and rarely raised his voice, never at Bev, but she and Richie had visited him at work once and the way that he talked to the men on the conference call had Richie shaking in his Converse and Bev extremely turned on. “How are you, Richie?” he asked with a smile. “You just finished up a set, right?” 

Richie was immediately relaxed, and sunk further into the chair. “Yeah, it went really well. I’m sweating up a storm right now, but that’s unrelated to the set and more to the hundreds of alphas out there.” He laughed weakly and Ben chuckled. He and Bev were the only two who knew about Richie’s presentation. He could use all the scent blockers he wanted, but Richie couldn’t help the effect an alpha’s presence had on him. This was only proven by how he immediately sat up straight when Bev reentered the room. He didn’t have to look to know Ben was doing the same. Even though he and Bev were mated--and Richie would never do anything to come between them--it was easy to listen to his instincts, especially when it was with someone he’d known his whole life. 

“Drink up,” Bev instructed, handing him a drink, and he took a gulp without bothering to try it. As a result, Bev had to clap him on the back as he choked, rolling her eyes at him fondly. “I said drink up, not swallow the whole thing like a whore,” she teased. “Take it easy. You can leave whenever you want, so don’t worry about rushing anything.” 

Richie relaxed again, looking up at Bev sheepishly. “Thanks,” he said hoarsely, raising the glass at her. “I’m just shaken, I think. The driver that Jason hired for me had scent blockers, and I couldn’t tell if it was because he was an omega or an alpha.” Bev and Ben shared intrigued glances. Most people didn’t bother to use scent blockers unless their professions required it, although most places preferred to hire a specific presentation rather than bother with blockers. It was one of the many things Richie hated about presentations, but as he took another sip, the thought slipped from his mind. “His name was Edward Kaspbrak. You two ever use him?” The innuendo--accidental, for once--made Richie flush behind his glass.

Bev tapped an acrylic nail against her chin thoughtfully. “The name sounds familiar, but he’s never driven me. Celebrity chauffeur kind of guy, right?” Richie nodded. “You gonna have him drive you again?”

“I don’t know. You think I should? I want to,” Richie admitted. “He was damn hot.” They all laughed. “Seriously, though, he made me curious.”

“I thought you figured yourself out already?” Bev teased, and Richie nudged her, shooting her a playful glare.

“Listen to me! There’s gotta be a reason--oh, and he got  _ super _ pissed when I joked about marking him, so there’s that. He didn’t have a ring, though. I couldn’t tell if he had a mark.” Richie sighed and took a long sip of his drink. It tasted vaguely fruity, but also like whiskey. He was almost 100% sure Bev had mixed it herself. 

Bev absentmindedly touched her own mate mark, prominent in the dip of her neck. She was proud to be mated, especially someone like Ben. She didn’t care what people said about female alphas mated with male omegas. It wasn’t about their presentations. She would’ve married Ben no matter what. She’d told Richie so on multiple occasions, all while getting drunk in Richie’s apartment together. Richie thought that was sweet. He only hoped he could find someone who felt the same. “You should call him up. Don’t ask about the blockers, obviously, but maybe you can figure something out if you go for another ride with him,” she suggested, and Ben nodded. 

“Couldn’t hurt to try,” he added. 

Richie thought about it before sitting up straight. “Alright. You guys have got a point. I’ll call him tomorrow...if my hangover isn’t too bad.” He eyed his drink suspiciously. “Next time you leave, maybe get a bottle,” he told Bev, and she laughed.

“Okay. You two don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone,” she said playfully, and gracefully rose from her chair with her champagne flute.

“I have no idea how she walks in those things,” Ben said in admiration, shaking his head as he watched his wife leave in three-inch heels. He then turned his attention on Richie. “I can tell you’re attracted to him, and not just because of the mystery. If you wanna learn more about him, the only way you’re going to do that is by actually  _ talking _ to him.” 

Richie nodded. “I know, I know. I’m gonna do it tomorrow. Promise.” He grinned at Ben. “It’s probably a good thing I don’t have his card. I don’t want to drunk dial my chauffeur.” He snorted and leaned back in his chair.  _ Tomorrow, I’m gonna find out about Edward. Tomorrow. _


	2. Eddie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't expect daily updates lmao. i was just excited to keep writing!! let's see if this motivation lasts  
> also the beginning involves eddie being sexually harassed by a client so skip that part if you'd like

When Eddie woke up, he wasn’t expecting to have Richie Tozier in his car. He figured it would be another day of the same assholes who  _ really _ didn’t deserve a personal chauffeur, some scheduled, some delightful surprises. But in the middle of driving one of his most common clients, he received a call. 

“Edward Kaspbrak speaking!” he cheerily answered, his voice a stark contrast to the way he was glaring at all the other drivers. He listened as the man on the phone--a manager, most likely--ordered a ride for his client later that night. “Richie Tozier? Yes, alright. I’ll pick Mr. Tozier up there at 8.” Eddie had his own rates, but this man was willing to pay more than usual. He silently wondered why, but didn’t question it. Money was money. Besides, his current client always paid less. Eddie didn’t particularly feel like getting his throat slit in his own car, so he never said anything about it. The man reeked of alpha. It made Eddie gag. He didn’t know what his own smell was, but he hoped it was better than  _ that _ . Like cheap liquor and rusty metal. 

“You know Tozier?” Bowers asked from the backseat when Eddie hung up, his gold canines flashing. Anyone who required dental work--and decided to get gold caps--was automatically a no in Eddie’s book. Sometimes he fantasized about pulling over and wringing Bowers’ meaty neck. But that wouldn’t be very good for business, would it?

“Uh, no. His manager just called. I’m picking him up later. You know, Mr. Bowers, I don’t discuss my clients with other clients--” Eddie started, but Bowers interrupted. 

“Aw, come on, Omega.” The pet name had Eddie’s knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. An unmated man who called someone by their presentation made Eddie livid. “You can tell me anything.” Bowers leaned forward and snaked a hand toward Eddie’s thigh. 

Eddie swallowed.  _ Ignore it, ignore it, he’ll stop eventually.  _ “It’s a matter of professionalism, Mr. Bowers,” he reiterated. “It’s nothing personal--”

Bowers grabbed his thigh, his alpha stink getting stronger. “Listen, Kaspbrak,” he growled. “You can use all the blockers you want, but I know you’re an omega. I could mark you right now if I wanted to, and you’d  _ love _ it. Don’t fucking test me.”

Eddie forced himself to not react. “We’re here, Mr. Bowers,” he said coldly. If Bowers had truly known him, he would’ve known that his tone meant he was seconds from snapping. But he took Eddie’s calmness for submission, and let go of his thigh with a disgusted grunt. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Omega,” he purred, and slipped out of the car. The second he shut the door, Eddie growled, letting out all the aggression he had to suppress. 

“Motherfucker, piece of shit, goddamn fucking crap face…” He continued to mutter under his breath as he pulled away, simmering with rage. He hated the way Bowers treated him. He was the owner of his own chauffeur service, for God’s sake. He didn’t need a piece of shit like him to keep his business afloat. But he knew Bowers was powerful, and not someone he wanted to cross. So he had to keep his damn mouth shut. 

His next client, an omega, cowered when she got into the car. Eddie immediately apologized. “I’m so sorry, the last client was an alpha. I’ll roll down the windows for you--” He saw the way she was eyeing him and quickly opened the center console, trying to subtly throw back a pill. He couldn’t tell, but it wasn’t unlikely that his concealed aggression had caused the blocker he’d taken this morning to wear off. He rolled down the windows as well, just enough for the car to air out without overwhelming her with all the other scents. He continued to look back at her as he drove, wanting to make sure she was alright. She seemed to relax a few minutes into the drive, which Eddie took as a good sign. Still, when they arrived at her destination, he turned to her. “Don’t worry about paying. It’s on me. I should’ve warned you, I’m sorry.” She smiled and thanked him softly before getting out of the car. He sighed. This day was not going well for him. 

* * *

The next few hours passed by in a blur, nothing particularly thrilling happening. Eddie was more than happy to let everything run its normal course. It wasn’t until he pulled up to the curb of Radio City Music Hall that anything changed. Something was off when Tozier stepped into the car, but Eddie couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Of course the first thing he asked was why Eddie used blockers. He had a reputation for having no filter, but Eddie was still taken aback. “Wha--why do you care?” He glared at him through his rearview, hoping he’d get the hint. But because he was Richie Tozier, of course he didn’t. Or maybe he just didn’t care. 

He bristled when he was called a “taxi driver.” He was the  _ owner _ of his damn company. It was called Kaspbrak Chauffeur Services for a reason. Tozier was clearly trying to get a rise out of him, but unlike with Bowers, he took the bait. “What about you? Most celebrities don’t care about their scents, either.” He scoffed. Did Tozier even count as a celebrity? He guessed he did, if he had a special on Netflix. He was so distracted by Tozier’s attempts at banter that he cut off a  _ real _ taxi driver, who honked at him. Still, it was his right of way. He rolled down the window and yelled out, “Hey, watch where you’re driving, dickhead!” and honked right back. “Jesus,” he muttered.  _ Nobody knows how to drive in New York _ . 

“Public knows everything about me. I figure with blockers, I can at least keep one part of my life secret,” Tozier responded, and Eddie raised an eyebrow at that. Interesting. He supposed that made sense. It was part of the reason he himself used blockers. Still, that didn’t mean he liked talking about it. “Hey, you know my name, right? You have to, ‘cause Jason called you--well, anyway, you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

Tozier had that excited-puppy routine down pat. It seemed like his attention was constantly bouncing from one thing to the next. Every time Eddie looked back at him, he was touching a different part of the car. Eddie debated responding, but he figured that his ego could take it. He rolled his eyes as he answered, then continued, “But no, you’re all too busy with your stand-up and fucking omegas to bother--”  _ Shit. _ He knew before the other man even cut him off that he had messed up. 

“You know my stand-up?” Eddie didn’t hear what else he said, besides his god-awful attempt at a nickname. He was too busy coming up with an excuse.

“Or I just looked you up so I would know who I was dealing with,” he managed to get out. No way would he tell him that he’d seen his special. The guy was funny. Crude sometimes, but funny. He never expected to meet him in real life.

He was so thrown off from this whole experience that when he saw Tozier taking off his shirt, his mind immediately jumped to the worst case scenario.  _ Would it be so bad _ ? he thought briefly, before he quickly banished that thought from his mind. “Woah, woah, woah! What the hell do you think you’re doing, Tozier?” He glared at him. No way was he going to let  _ another _ alpha come onto him today. 

But then Tozier laughed. “What, did you think I was coming onto you? Gonna climb into the front seat and mark you?” Eddie’s jaw immediately set and he glanced at him with that simmering rage in his eyes before staring straight ahead.  _ You don’t have a clue. Coming into my car without a care in the world and laughing at me for making an assumption.  _ It was obvious that the other man knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut, because the rest of the ride was silent. Eddie was ready for him to walk out and to never see him again, but after getting out of the car, he turned around. Eddie was surprised he apologized. He didn’t know the guy that well, but he didn’t seem like the apologizing type. But he took his words and money gratefully, and he even managed to pull a small smile out of him. Not a lot, but it was there. He could tell Tozier was looking at him for longer than necessary, but he couldn’t tell if he was checking him out or sizing him up. It was no secret that he was bisexual. He’d talked about it in length during  _ Trashmouth _ . God, Eddie hadn’t realized what a fitting name that was. Still, it was just as likely that he was trying to tell what presentation he was. Or maybe both.

He watched Tozier--Richie?--walk away, snorting when he crashed into the bike. “See ya around, Richie,” he said softly, examining how the name felt in his mouth. It was strange--he didn’t call his clients by their first name. But Richie’s name felt almost familiar to him, like it was a name he was supposed to say. He contemplated this for a moment before shaking his head. “Hopeless romantic,” he muttered, and drove away. 

* * *

Eddie didn’t get home until three in the morning. He’d spent most of his night driving around drunk mates and trying not to let their scent affect him. They all smelled so... _ claimed _ . He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever get to smell like that. And they were happy, too. It wasn’t just about the scent. It was how their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, the contented sighs into the other’s mouth. They were drunk, sure, but they were happy. 

He dragged himself up the seven flights of stairs to the floor of his apartment; the elevator was broken. He would’ve thought owning a successful business would’ve paid off more by now, but most of his profit went into salaries for workers and car payments. The rest went towards his own bills and groceries, leaving little for rent. The building itself wasn’t the nicest, but Eddie had done a decent job of making his apartment home. It was small--cozy, he corrected himself--and it was perfectly acceptable for a man who barely spent any time there anyway. The furniture was nice, the TV was nice, and his bedroom was...well, sometimes he wished he  _ was _ an omega just so he’d have the nesting instinct. It was always uncomfortable, and he never slept all the way through the night.

Eddie took a frozen meal from the freezer and popped it in the microwave, rubbing his hand across his face. It would be a miracle if he could stay awake long enough to finish it. He had to be up at 7 to bring some rich alpha to her morning yoga class and he was already dreading it. He very rarely found anyone he actually enjoyed driving around. He’d driven an omega once--an architect, if he remembered correctly--who was the most charming man he’d ever met, and not in a sleazy way. He wished he would come back. He could use a nice client. 

He scented his apartment while he waited, running his wrists over every exposed surface in the apartment. A whole day of suppressing his scent led to an almost desperate scenting. He just wanted something that smelled like  _ his _ . His car didn’t, and he certainly didn’t have a mate to claim. He wanted a mate, that’s what it really came down to. Even more than a mate, he wanted a partner. Someone to come home to at night. Someone to share a bed with. To scent and claim and  _ fuck _ . 

Eddie scarfed down his food, barely tasting it. It didn’t really matter. It was just sustenance—even though it was the only real meal he’d had all day. He barely made it through his nightly routine without passing out from exhaustion; he showered and washed his face, then changed before he crawled into his bed. Alone. Again. He sighed into his pillow.  _ Tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day. _


	3. Richie

Richie could feel his heat approaching. He figured he still had a good few days left, but he didn’t usually wake up with an overwhelming urge to nest. He spent his morning rearranging his entire room, pulling his bed against the wall so he could pile blankets in the corner. He spent about an hour on the nest alone, organizing and reorganizing the blankets until they were just right. He still felt hollow, though, and he knew it was because there was nothing of an alpha’s in the nest. Heats always sucked major dick. He didn’t want to go beg some random alpha to help him through it. He had no judgment for omegas who did do that, but he just didn’t see how it could be satisfying. He wanted an alpha that was his, and his alone. He wanted to put their clothes in his nest and sit in their lap during lulls--although, there brought up another issue. He wasn’t an omega anyone would ever want to mate with. No control over his gangly limbs or his fast mouth, and he wasn’t an omega who’d just lie there and take it. At least, not outside of heat. He could quickly feel himself dropping--he thought about this often, but it was more dangerous close to heat. He got out of his nest and shook his head. “You’re fine, Rich,” he muttered to himself. “Snap out of it. You’ll get through this one. You always do.”

He made his way out of his room and out to the kitchen, although he didn’t have the energy to make anything more than coffee and a bowl of cereal. Now that the nesting craze had worn off, the hangover was starting to hit him, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Last night had been way more fun than he was anticipating, although he couldn’t quite remember everything he’d said to Bev and Ben. He wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up embarrassing himself. He often did, both sober and not. But he wasn’t focusing on that right now. All he wanted was to drink his coffee and get rid of the pounding headache behind his eyes. 

He took his coffee and cereal over to his couch, turning on his phone. He winced at the brightness and quickly turned it down. He had a few texts from Bev--he’d look at those in a minute--and one from Jason. He answered that one first, knowing the longer he waited, the more annoying his manager would get. Jason was a beta, which Richie secretly thanked God for. There would be nothing worse than calling him in a mid-heat haze for help. Not only would he expose himself, but the embarrassment of having to show up to the next show and face him like everything was normal was not something Richie wanted to experience. The text he read now was a reminder of his second Radio City set tonight. Richie didn’t know why he thought he would forget his own set. He wasn’t  _ that _ irresponsible. He sent back a brief response and moved onto Bev’s messages.

_ Really hung up on that driver, huh? ;)  _

_ You gonna call him? _

_ If you can look at your phone without being blinded lol _

Richie groaned. Of course he’d gone on about Edward last night. He shouldn’t get caught up in him. He’d probably never even see him again. And if he did end up being an alpha, it wasn’t a good idea to come in contact with him. Not right now. And yet...there was more of a pull towards the chauffeur than he wanted to admit. He really did want to call him. Well, call him to have him drive Richie again, at least. Was that selfish? Edward didn’t really have a choice, after all. Richie hadn’t done anything so bad he’d have a reason to refuse, although he did still feel guilty for upsetting him. He sighed and texted Bev back.

_ do i even wanna know _

She responded immediately.

_ Probably not. But I’ll tell you anyway :* _

Richie chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee and closing his eyes briefly. He really wanted to do nothing more than go back to bed and rest. He knew he would be exhausted during the next week, and it would be ideal for him to not do a set tonight. But he knew he had to, so with a groan, he opened his eyes again.   
_you and b wanna come to my set tonight? front row for my faves_

_ We’d love to! But only if we get free drinks too :) _

_ you’re richer than me, marsh _

_ no free drinks for you _

Richie could envision Beverly pouting as she responded, and he laughed. 

_ Fine. 8 at Radio City again? _

_ yeah. see u guys there  _

Richie pinched the bridge of his nose again and got up, rummaging through his cabinet for something to get rid of the splitting headache. He needed more than cereal. Some greasy diner food, probably. But that meant he had to go out, and he didn’t like the scent blockers. They always made him feel itchy. He felt the urge then to scent everything he owned, most likely just from thinking about being suppressed. He whined, a sound rarely heard outside of his heats, and went back into his bedroom. He laid back down on his bed and scented all of the blankets. He ran his wrists against them and wrapped the softest one around himself like a cape. He always felt small when he was in his nest. Vulnerable. That was one of the sole traits common amongst omegas that Richie actually related to. He felt that yearning ache in his gut again and groaned. He didn’t know if he’d be able to make it through his set. So many people with so many scents; it made his head start throbbing again at the thought. 

Richie changed into a new pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt--he wasn’t going for class--and downed a scent blocker. He grimaced at the feeling of it going down; he wasn’t used to taking pills. He grabbed his phone and wallet from his bedroom, looking longingly at his nest, and then left.

The sun shone as Richie walked from his apartment to the diner. Normally, he would’ve appreciated it. Right now? It was his worst nightmare. He tried to shove his sunglasses further onto his face with little success. The diner wasn’t too far, which he took as his saving grace.

The mix of diner food and alpha smells churned Richie’s stomach as he stepped in. He waved to the chef as he sat down at the counter. Hanlon’s Diner was the best place to come for hangover food. A lot of newbies heard “organic” and “cruelty-free” and visited expecting a bougie café with overpriced parfaits, but that wasn’t what Mike was about. His father had owned the diner before him, and had since retired, but Mike kept the family ideal of affordable, ethical food for everyone. They did serve parfaits, come to think of it, but Richie came for the hashbrowns, omelettes, and sausage. He didn’t even have to tell Mike his order; he could tell. The alpha sometimes got shit for being the cook at his own diner, instead of letting an omega take care of it, but Mike loved his work. It shone through his food in every aspect. 

“Rough night?” Mike joked as he flipped a hashbrown on the grill, taking in Richie’s rugged appearance over his shoulder.

Richie gave him a tired smile. “You could say that.” Mike’s scent, like pine and hay, made Richie shift in his seat. He was lucky he wasn’t far from home; if he...lost control...he wouldn’t have far to go. Still, he really hoped he could maintain some dignity here. He wanted his eggs. “Oh, and I’ll take a coffee, too, when you get the chance.” He thought of his mug at home, going cold next to his soggy bowl of cereal. He’d have to clean that up before he left again. Mike nodded, smiling as he turned back to the grill. 

The bell above the door rang, causing Richie to turn his head. “No way,” he breathed. Sure enough, there was Edward, dressed just as immaculately as yesterday in a pressed suit. He hadn’t realized how short he was. The scent blockers were still at work, which Richie found irritating. Even more irritating was how gorgeous he looked at nine in the morning, while Richie looked like a troll. 

“Hey, Eddie!” Mike greeted, waving to him as he slid Richie’s eggs and sausage onto a plate. “How much time you have?”

Edward--Eddie?--smiled at Mike as he sat down at the counter. He hadn’t seemed to notice Richie yet, which he was grateful for. “Just a coffee today, Mike. I’ve only got half an hour before my next client.” 

Richie observed this interaction cynically. The guy hadn’t seemed so friendly yesterday, although maybe this was just how he talked to people he actually liked. He briefly considered texting Bev, although he knew what she would say.  _ Go ahead, shoot your shot! _ He sighed and pulled his hood down, combing his hair back with his fingers in an attempt to at least fix that. Had he even brushed his teeth this morning? God, he hoped so. He turned in his seat to face him. “Hey, Edward. Or should I call you Eddie?” 

The other man blinked. It seemed like he really hadn’t noticed he was there. “Mr. Tozier--Richie.” He cleared his throat. “You can call me Eddie...if you buy me dinner first. Or, breakfast, in this case.” He smirked, and Richie’s eyes widened. 

“You two know each other?” Mike asked as he set Richie’s plate down in front of him. Richie couldn’t stop himself from taking a large bite, and he groaned, giving Mike a thumbs up. 

Eddie eyed him and laughed a little at his eagerness before responding. “I drove him yesterday. That’s where the familiarity ends.” 

Richie, in between two more big bites, turned back to Eddie. “If all I have to do is buy you a coffee to get on nickname basis with you, I’m there. How much is a coffee, anyway? Two bucks?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d just gotten coffee from here. It seemed like a waste not to get any food, although he understood it if Eddie was in a rush. 

“Something like that,” Mike agreed amiably, going to get the two coffees and then moving on to another customer. 

“So, Eddie--” Richie conveniently ignored the eye roll from the other man as he took another bite. “You busy all day, all night? Do you ever get a break? I mean, besides the time it takes for you to get a coffee?” 

To his surprise, it didn’t seem like Eddie minded the conversation. He nodded. “Pretty much. Last night, I got home at three and had to be up at six.” Richie exhaled sharply in sympathy. He’d probably gone to bed at the same time, but at least he got to sleep in. “I don’t have a lot of time to myself, except for when a client cancels. It’s pretty much back and forth all day long.”

“That’s gotta suck, man. I can’t imagine--well, I sorta can,” Richie reasoned, watching how Eddie watched him as he took a sip of coffee. “It’s like press days, never stopping, one interview after another, moving from one event to the next.” Eddie looked amused. “No, I’m serious! Maybe you don’t think it’s as hard as driving all the time, but it’s exhausting. All these people, all these smells…” He trailed off, not wanting to reveal too much about himself. Everyone had a good sense of smell, but he could already feel himself getting too comfortable with Eddie. Who knew what he talked to his clients about, or who his clients even were? He didn’t want to spill anything that someone could use against him. 

Eddie seemed to recognize that Richie was done talking. “I’m sure being a celebrity is very difficult for you,” he said dryly. He finished his coffee--when had he even started?--and stood up. “I’d love to keep talking, but I’ve gotta go. Thanks for the coffee, Richie.” He smirked. “You have my number--or, your manager does. Give me a call next time you need a ride.” He looked Richie up and down and his smirk turned into a smile. “I’ll see you around.” Richie’s eyes followed Eddie as he walked out of the diner, meeting Mike’s when he turned back around. He wore a knowing smile.

“Interesting choice, Rich,” he teased. “Good luck with him. He’s not an easy one to get to know.” 

“You’re telling me,” Richie muttered. He shifted in his chair.  _ No. You have to wait until at least tomorrow. You can make it through tonight. You have to. _ He put his hood back up and hunkered down, eating his food like it was the last meal he’d ever get. He had to stop thinking about Eddie. He was definitely shorter than him, but where Richie was lanky, Eddie filled out that tight suit of his. God, those pants hugged his ass perfectly. Richie licked his lips.  _ Way to not think about him, loser. _

* * *

It took all of Richie’s strength to not succumb to his heat when he was home. He couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie, as hard as he tried. Well, he wasn’t trying  _ that _ hard. He tried to distract himself by going through his set, but he trailed off every time he thought of Eddie’s lips smirking at him. He wanted those lips all over his body, making him sweat and moan and beg. His hands weren’t as big as Richie’s, and his fingers weren’t as long, but that didn’t stop him from imagining them buried deep inside of him.

He ended up jerking off in the shower like a horny teenager when he was getting ready. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do until he got home again. He got dressed in his blazer and suit pants, thinking the entire time how Eddie would look better in them, and waited outside for Jason to pick him up. He almost debated calling Eddie, but he knew it was a bad idea. It was much safer for him to just go with his manager like he normally did.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting out here?” Jason demanded as Richie slid into the passenger seat. “You were supposed to be there half an hour ago!”

Richie winced. His hangover had since gone away, but that didn’t make his manager’s voice any less grating. “I know, I know,” he said tiredly, but didn’t explain further. What was he going to tell him?  _ Hey, remember that guy you hired to drive me yesterday? Yeah, I can’t stop thinking about what his knot would feel like in me, so forgive my tardiness. _ Yeah, right. Jason huffed in annoyance but began driving, not wanting to be later than they already were. 

Richie’d popped another blocker before he left, so he hoped it wasn’t obvious when he started thinking about Eddie again. What if he wasn’t an alpha? He could’ve been an omega, or even a beta. Sure, Richie  _ wanted _ him to be an alpha, but that didn’t mean anything. And if he  _ wasn’t _ one, then no way would he want Richie. Sure, there were people who dated within their own presentation, but Richie had a feeling that Eddie wouldn’t want him even if he was one of those. People like Eddie didn’t mate with people like him. The thought made him less horny, at least.

Jason ushered Richie through the winding halls of Radio City, even though he’d been there last night and was perfectly capable of finding his own way. No doubt he thought he’d get distracted and be late to his own set. He checked his phone as he waited backstage, seeing a text from Bev. 

_ You told them we were with you, right? The guy won’t let us in. _

“Fuck,” Richie muttered. “Uh, Jason, can you go out to the front and tell the usher that Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom don’t need tickets? I told them they could come tonight, but I...kinda forgot to tell you,” he said sheepishly. 

Jason sighed in exasperation, rubbing his temples. “Richie, I told you; if you want to invite your friends, I need to know the morning of,  _ at the latest _ . But because I’m your manager, and I’m the  _ best _ manager, I’ll go help you out.” He gave him a fondly annoyed smile and left for the front. 

“Thank you!” Richie called after him, then texted Bev back.

_ my bad, totally slipped my mind. jason’s coming out now.  _

_ Shit, driver boy really got to you, huh? _

_ shut up. _

Richie slipped his phone back into his pocket, taking a sip from the water bottle he had been handed at some point. He was already feeling kind of sweaty. The security team was all alphas, and he didn’t see anybody else in sight. He wanted this to start sooner rather than later, so then he could leave. Any other night, he would’ve taken all of this in. He loved the pre-show adrenaline, and the high that came with walking out onto a stage with hundreds of people cheering for him. He loved that he got to make jokes for a living. He loved seeing Bev and Ben in the front row, laughing along with everyone else. He just loved his job. But now, all he wanted to do was get in and get out. 

Jason came back ten minutes later with confirmation that his friends had made it to their seats. “Can you try to remember to tell me next time?” he said pointedly, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. Richie couldn’t remember ever owning a handkerchief. Even the word sounded old-fashioned. He was pretty sure, actually, that he’d kept the one Bev gave him last night, but he’d never gone out to  _ buy _ one. Jason probably had a collection. A special drawer in his room devoted to them. Richie was suddenly pulled from his fabric-lined train of thought by Jason snatching the water bottle from his hand. “It’s almost time. You’ve got one on stage. Go get set up.” 

Richie took a deep breath and nodded, walking toward the opening of the stage wing. “You can do this,” he murmured to himself. “You can get through this set. It’s an hour and a half of telling jokes. You’ve got this.” 

“Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Rrrrichie Tozier!” The audience whooped and clapped as the announcement ended and Richie walked onstage, plastering a big smile on his face. He waved and bowed, overexaggerating the movements. He stood in the center of the stage, taking the microphone from its stand. 

“Hey, guys! How’s everyone feeling tonight?” The crowd cheered, and Richie felt a wave of scent crash over him.  _ So many goddamn alphas. _ “Thanks for coming out! So, I’ve got this manager, right? Swear to god, I’ve never met a more anal beta in my life. He’s got a drawer at home for his fucking pocket squares.” He glanced off stage and grinned at Jason as the audience laughed. His manager flipped him off, but he was smirking. 

The set was going pretty well, all things considered. The jokes, a mix of improv and planned bits, were all landing. He caught Bev and Ben laughing at jokes he’d practiced on them already, which was a good sign. He loved knowing that his bits were just as good the second time around. He was about halfway through when he felt it. “I’ve never met an alpha who didn’t have a kink for omega on omega porn. Like, hey, I’m horny. How about I watch porn that has nothing to do with me so I can...pretend I’m not the one fucking someone? Makes no fucking sense, if you ask--” He swallowed, suddenly feeling faint. Hey, at least he wasn’t wrong. The strength of alpha scent had increased dramatically just by mentioning omega porn.  _ Horny fucks _ . “If you ask me…” He stumbled, holding onto the stool holding his water for support.  _ Fuck. I gotta--I gotta go.  _ “I...I’m sorry, guys. I need to--yeah.” He made brief eye contact with Ben and Bev, catching their worried faces as he barely managed to make it offstage. He could hear the crowd booing, but he didn’t care. He’d get Jason to give them all refunds. He just needed to get out of here before he went full omega on some poor alpha bodyguard. 

Jason ran up to him, holding his shoulders. “Rich, you okay? What’s wrong? You’ve gotta go back on stage, buddy.” 

Richie shook his head, feeling warm all over. “I can’t, I’m sorry, I gotta--” He nearly fainted when he smelled Bev’s scent, following it straight into her arms. He didn’t know how she’d gotten backstage, and he didn’t care. “Take me home, Alpha,” he mumbled into her ear, and she exchanged looks with Ben, who quickly left to get their car.

“I’ve got him. Tell the crowd he’s sorry, but he had a fever and he shouldn’t’ve been performing tonight anyway. We’ll take care of him,” Bev told Jason firmly. He looked suspicious, but it wasn’t directed at her. She didn’t care either way. “Come on, Rich,” she said soothingly. “I’ve got you. Let’s go out to the car, okay? Ben will drive us home.” 

Richie could barely think. His heat had taken over way too quickly. All he could process was that an alpha was talking to him and he had to listen. “Yes, Alpha,” he mumbled, letting her drag him out to the car. Ben was already waiting outside, and Bev helped Richie into the backseat. He whined when she let go of him, and she sighed before crawling in next to him. Ben didn’t mind. They were close enough, and he was secure enough, that he knew Richie didn’t mean anything by calling Bev Alpha. He was familiar with her, and in a heat haze, so he wasn’t thinking straight. The protective side of him still wanted to hiss at him as Richie clambered into his mate’s lap. It was hilarious, actually. He was much too big to fit comfortably there, but Bev was strong and he was purring, so she just let him. “Wanna go home, Alpha,” he whined, and Bev shushed him, stroking his hair. 

“I know, sweetheart. We’ve got you. We’re taking you home.” Bev clenched her teeth at the smell of Richie’s heat, fighting against the scent blockers. “Just relax. You’ll be home soon, and we can get you all comfy in your nest.” 

“Nest,” Richie agreed, nuzzling into her neck. Ben glanced back at the two of them before starting to drive. 

It took both Ben and Bev to help Richie out of the car and up into his apartment quickly enough to not be seen--or smelled--by anyone else in the building. Richie made a beeline for his nest, curling up into it and purring. “Alpha,” he whined, making grabby hands for Bev. She sighed and sat at the edge of the bed. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not your alpha,” she said softly. “I’ll stay here tonight, but I can’t help you.” Richie cried out, and Bev chewed her lip. It hurt to see Richie like this, but she was faithful to Ben no matter what. Plus, it wouldn’t be the same. She wasn’t his mate, and she smelled like Ben. Richie wouldn’t want that. Not when he was thinking straight. 

Ben stood at the threshold of Richie’s bedroom. “Hey, Omega,” he said softly, and Richie looked up, his eyes glassy. “Can I come into your nest?” Richie slowly nodded, determining Ben to hold no threat to him. Ben slipped off his shoes and crawled into bed next to Richie, who immediately snuggled into him. 

“Smell nice,” he murmured, and Ben smiled. He was no alpha, but his instincts made him excellent at comforting other omegas. He stroked Richie’s hair, and mouthed for Bev to go out and make Richie some tea. Bev nodded and got up. Richie cried out again at the lack of an alpha in the room, but Ben gently shushed him. 

“You’re alright, Omega,” he whispered. “Just breathe. Relax. We’ll be here when you wake up.” He continued to gently stroke Richie’s hair, and by the time Bev came back with the tea, the other man was asleep.

“How did you do that?” she asked in quiet amazement, setting the tea down on Richie’s nightstand. 

Ben shrugged. “Omega instincts, I guess. He’ll be in a lull when he wakes up, I think. Long enough for us to explain what happened and get him comfortable before the next one hits.” Bev nodded and leaned over the bed to kiss Ben softly. 

“You’re such a good omega, taking care of everyone,” she told him with a smile, and Ben purred softly at the praise. “I’ll go on the couch. Thank you for being so great about all of this.”

“Of course, Beverly,” he said, smiling up at her. “We’ve gotta take care of our own. I love you.” He lifted his hand from Richie’s head to squeeze his mate’s softly, and she squeezed it back.

“I love you too, Ben.” She kissed his knuckles before leaving again to set up the couch for herself. Ben looked down at the sleeping omega and sighed. He hoped Richie would find someone soon. If not that driver, then someone else. He wanted him to feel as protected and taken care of as he did with Bev. 

“Sleep well, Richie,” he whispered, leaning back into the nest. Richie made a soft noise in his sleep and snuggled closer to him. Ben smiled. “You’ll find a mate soon. I know you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i need your opinion so please leave a comment: do you like the switching perspectives or does it get repetitive for you? i'm happy to write both sides, but i don't want to rewrite scenes in the other's perspective if you guys don't want me to! i want y'all to enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing it, so just let me know!


	4. Eddie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i know this is already marked explicit but we get Explicit for the first time towards the end of the chapter, just a heads up :) enjoy!

The yoga mom wasn’t that bad, all things considered. She talked to her friends on the phone--who else would willingly be awake at 6:30 in the morning was beyond Eddie, but he was more than happy to let her chatter on instead of having to make conversation. He hadn’t even had enough time to make himself a cup of coffee before he left, too busy ironing his suit. It wasn’t until he was almost done that he realized he had plenty of other suits hanging up in his closet, but it was early. He’d gotten two and a half hours of restless sleep. He was exhausted. Come to think of it, he probably shouldn’t be operating heavy machinery right now, but somebody had to do it. 

He dropped the woman off at the gym-spa-resort combo and picked up another client in the meantime. He dropped him off, then came back to return the yoga mom home. The morning was pretty standard, overall. He just hoped he didn’t get any more surprise calls from a certain comedian’s manager. 

He stopped by Hanlon’s Diner during a break. He loved it there. The diner was way underrated for the quality of the food, and it didn’t hurt that the owner was probably the nicest man Eddie had ever met. He’d never talked to Mike outside of the diner, but he was certainly someone he’d like to be friends with...if he ever had any time for friends. His schedule kept him busy nearly every day, and the time he had off he preferred to save for himself. It happened so rarely that he didn’t want to waste it. He was planning on just having a quick cup of coffee and leaving--the clients didn’t wait--but because the universe seemed to have something out for him, Richie Tozier happened to be sitting right there. He didn’t even notice him until he spoke. It was irritating. He wanted to be able to smell him, and not being able to was throwing him off. Well, he could smell that he hadn’t brushed his teeth, and alcohol was leaking from his pores. Eddie tried not to grimace as he responded.

“You can call me Eddie...if you buy me dinner first. Or, breakfast, in this case.” Eddie smirked, but internally he was screaming.  _ Why the fuck did you say that? First of all, he’s a client. Second of all, he’s famous. Third of all, you barely know him. Don’t flirt with people you don’t know. Dumbass. _

But Richie seemed to have taken it well, if the blush on his cheeks was any indication. He was much more controlled in his conversation this time around. Eddie didn’t know if he was genuinely interested, or just trying to prove that he could talk without bringing up presentation, but he was happy to talk to him either way. It wasn’t often that people asked about him. Granted, it was just about work, but that was more than he got from...well, anybody. 

Eddie checked his watch and swore under his breath. He was going to be late. He quickly finished his coffee and reluctantly told Richie, “I’d love to keep talking, but I have to go.” And he wasn’t lying. He would’ve liked to stay and learn more about this man--and  _ not _ so he could get into his pants. He just wanted to see if Richie was the “Trashmouth” he seemed to be on stage. Before he left, he looked Richie up and down. It was endearing, in a way:  _ Stars, they’re just like us! _ He smiled. “I’ll see you around,” he said, and he really hoped he would.

* * *

For once, Eddie was off of work by 2 p.m. He wasn’t the only driver anymore; he could afford to hand off his clients to someone else. Once in a blue moon, at least. He stopped at the grocery store before he went home. He didn’t need a lot of food, considering he was practically never there, but he was in the mood to cook tonight.  _ Pasta, maybe,  _ he thought, getting up on his tiptoes to grab a box off the top shelf. 

“Ope. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Eddie heard a voice from behind him and turned, suddenly finding himself boxed in by a giant. He reached over his head, picking up the box with ease. He held it out to Eddie with a smile. “I know how you feel. My omega’s the same way. Always gotta help him reach the top shelf.” The guy was obviously friendly, but Eddie still bristled.

“I’m not an omega,” he spat, grabbing the box from the other man. “You never seen a short alpha before? It’s 2020, dude. Get over yourself.” He scoffed and shoved the box into his basket, stalking away and leaving a very confused man behind him. 

Once he’d cooled off, Eddie began to feel guilty. It wasn’t the guy’s fault he’d acted on impulse. He shouldn’t’ve snapped at him. But being around people his entire life who’d done nothing but put him down gave him a Napoleon complex and a personal vendetta against douchey alphas. He didn’t mind it so much when it was an omega making the judgement. It tended to be based more around hoping for a friendly face than being condescending. Eddie had never looked down on omegas. In fact, he used to wish he was one. It would’ve made everything so much easier, if he could’ve just been what everyone wanted him to be. 

“Cash or credit, sir?”

Eddie blinked. “Huh?” He’d hardly even realized he was in line. The words processed a split-second later and he cleared his throat. “Sorry. Cash.” He pulled out his wallet and handed over a few bills, then took his bags and thanked the cashier. He shook his head at himself as he left the store. “You’re thinking too much,” he chastised himself. He took a deep breath as he got into his car. “Stop getting in your head.” 

* * *

_ Boy, don’t call me angel _

_ You ain’t got me right _

_ Don’t call me angel _

_ You can’t pay my price _

Eddie swayed his hips, singing along as he stirred the pasta in the pot. Lana Del Rey was one of his favorite artists, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Unfortunately, not a lot of her music was conducive to having fun in the kitchen, so a collab it was. He did his best not to think about his job at all. His employees would take care of everything. He just needed to relax. 

He brought his pasta over to the couch, sighing as he relaxed into it. He’d changed into a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants as soon as he got home, and he’d nearly forgotten how comfortable they were. Eddie turned on the TV. He changed it to a random channel and pulled a blanket over himself to get even more cozy. He snorted.  _ It’s like you’re an omega _ . He took his phone from his pants pocket, turning off the music. He ate in silence for a while before going back to the phone. His reflection stared back at him from the black, sad-eyed and hesitant.  _ Don’t do it,  _ it seemed to be saying.  _ You’re better than that. You haven’t talked to her in years. You don’t need to call her.  _ Eddie and screen-Eddie had a silent stare-off until he sighed. “Fine. You win. Again,” he muttered, turning on the phone and heading to Twitter instead. 

It was mostly the same shit as always: people getting into meaningless fights and idolization of pop stars. This was a pleasure Eddie  _ did _ feel guilty about. He loved all the useless drama--not to the point of starting any himself, but if he spent half an hour scrolling through a celeb’s feed looking at receipts, that was nobody’s business but his own. After a while, he started to get bored, but then something caught his eye.  _ Richie Tozier _ was a trending topic. He frowned and clicked on it. 

_ at a richie tozier gig and he just freaked out and ran off lmao. better b getting my money back _

_ richie tozier getting freaked when alphas react to his jokes? it’s more likely than you think. _

_ when richie tozier publicly outs himself as an omega...embarrassing :/ _

Eddie frowned as he read through the tweets, his eyes widening at the last one. It seemed like it hadn’t gotten many likes or retweets yet. Without a second thought, he reported it for harassment. Maybe it wouldn’t go away, but he could at least try to stop  _ that _ rumor before it got too far. The idea, though, gave him a spark of excitement that he tried to ignore. What if he really  _ was  _ an omega? Not that it mattered, because they’d never work together, but...what if he was? __

He looked through the hashtag some more, eventually finding a video of the event. He was in the middle of telling some joke about omega porn (Eddie rolled his eyes. He barely even watched porn, let alone omega-on-omega porn) when he suddenly stumbled. Eddie squinted, trying to get a better look from the grainy video. It looked like he’d lost all the color in his skin, and he stammered out a quick, confused apology before running offstage. The video cut, but not before Eddie heard the murmurs from the crowd. He chewed his lip. He hadn’t had any real-life experience with it, but he remembered learning about it in high school...and that looked like a triggered heat. 

It was awful. He knew it was. He felt pained for Richie; not only did he go into heat in the middle of a set, but he was famous. It could blow over in a day, or it could be a huge scandal. It was terrible for Richie...but there was a pull low in Eddie’s gut that made him imagine more. Not the embarrassment, but when he got home: slick running down his thighs, crying out for an alpha to breed him, desperately fucking himself back onto his fingers while he waited for Eddie to come and take him--

“Fuck,” Eddie breathed, now acutely aware of a pressing issue. Or rather, the issue pressing against his sweatpants. He licked his lips. Cocky Richie Tozier, reduced to tears and moans underneath him...the image was too erotic to resist. He stood up rather awkwardly and went to his bedroom; he wasn’t an animal, after all. He left his phone on the couch, not wanting to be disrupted. He took off his clothes and grabbed the bottle of lube in his nightstand, then got comfortable on the bed. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was really about to jerk off to a guy he’d watched on TV and had only talked to twice. He hadn’t lost his erection, though, his fantasy image still at the forefront of his mind. 

Eddie poured a generous amount of lube over his cock, wanting to create what he was sure Richie would feel like on his heat. He groaned at just the thought. Richie’d be tighter than his hand wrapped around himself, but it would have to do. Eddie stopped himself from mentally adding,  _ for now _ . He closed his eyes, his breathing shallow as he let his imagination take over.

_ “Eddie, Alpha, please!” Richie cried, rutting into the bed. “Need you to breed me, you make me feel so full--” _

_ “Shh, Omega,” Eddie reassured. “I’ve got you. Let your Alpha take care of you.” _

Eddie opened his eyes and frowned. That wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted hard, fast fucking. Not this--emotional junk. Certainly, once he had an omega, he’d take the best care of him, but this was a fantasy. Not real life. He didn’t want to imagine himself comforting Richie. That wasn’t what this was for. He closed his eyes and got settled in again. 

_ “Take it, Omega,” Eddie grunted, gripping Richie’s hair as he whined and shuddered underneath him. He could feel his slick running down his thighs, Eddie’s cock not enough to hold it back.  _

_ “Alpha,” Richie whimpered, suddenly yelping as Eddie tugged particularly hard. Eddie immediately stopped, although he didn’t pull out. He knew Richie wouldn’t want that. _

_ “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asked softly, kissing Richie’s temple. “Tell me what you need.” _

Eddie groaned in frustration, his eyes snapping open again. “I didn’t ask for this,” he growled. His cock hadn’t gotten any less hard, but Eddie was quickly growing tired of this. Maybe the issue was with Richie. He just couldn’t fantasize about him. That was fine. Eddie didn’t need him. 

_ “Alpha,” the omega mewled, spreading his legs beneath him. Eddie jerked himself off above him, looking coldly down onto him.  _

_ “You’ll take what I give you,” he growled, and the omega bared his neck in submission.  _

That wasn’t what he wanted either. He didn’t want to be some careless, unfeeling alpha that everyone seemed to like. Eddie made another grunt of frustration and finally just got up, pulling his sweatshirt back on. “This was stupid,” he grumbled. “Stupid alpha dick, getting worked up over nothing.” He huffed his way back into the living room, where he’d let his pasta get cold. He went to heat it up in the microwave, humming to try to distract himself from the still-prominent image of himself tenderly stroking Richie’s hair back. “You don’t even know him,” he argued out loud. “Don’t get all sappy, Kaspbrak. It’s not good for you.” He pulled out the pasta with another huff and slammed the microwave door. “Don’t open yourself up to people you don’t know. Don’t get attached. Don’t let yourself fall for him.” He repeated the sentences like a mantra as he went back to the couch. He flipped to a new channel, something he actually had to focus on. Something to distract him.  _ Don’t let yourself fall. _

_ But what if I finally let myself live? _


	5. Richie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i hope you like this chapter :) i'm not going to tag the work with it because i don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about what this is actually about but this chapter includes body horror. it also gets into what richie's omega drops are like which is basically a form of depression, so if either of those make you uncomfortable just skip to the next chapter! love you all <3

Richie awoke with slick between his thighs and a name on his lips. “Eddie,” he cried, immediately filled with an intense urge to  _ mate fuck breed.  _ He was lucid enough to clamber off his bed, more slick running down his legs as he did so, and grab his box of toys he kept underneath it. He didn’t remember anything of last night, really. Everything was a blur of hormones and dreams. He didn’t particularly care, either. He was much more focused on getting filled than anything else. He grabbed his biggest dildo from the box and tossed the rest to the side, curling up in his nest before pressing the tip against his hole. He immediately whined, more sensitive than ever. He normally would never dare rush in so quickly, but he knew he wouldn’t need prep right now. His body wanted him to get fucked, as much and as fast as possible. 

Before he could think, Richie was bouncing on the dildo, one hand keeping it upright while the other ran across his body. With his eyes closed, he could almost pretend it was an alpha, scenting and claiming what was his. “Alpha,” he moaned. “Fill me, Alpha. Want it so bad. Claim me. Make me yours.” He sighed, his head tilting to the side in submission. Richie’s hand slipped and caused the dildo to angle just right, making him gasp. “Yes! Yes, God, Alpha, breed me, I wanna be all yours--” He came with a sob, completely untouched. He kept the dildo inside of him, sinking into the blankets of his nest. He knew he should clean himself, but he would save that for his first lull. For now, he just wanted to go back to sleep. 

* * *

Richie woke up the second time to the smell of bacon and eggs. Too sleepy to question it, he pulled the dildo out of himself so he could get up. His stomach grumbled as he slipped out of bed, grimacing at the feeling of dried slick on his thighs. He’d clean it off...but he was hungry. Food first. Then clean. 

“He’s alive!” Ben greeted with a grin, spooning eggs onto a plate. “I was gonna make food earlier, but I didn’t want to disrupt you.” His cheeks were slightly pink, and he didn’t make eye contact with Richie until he sat down, but he was otherwise unembarrassed, which Richie was grateful for.

His vision was blurry and he rubbed his eyes, trying to relieve the burn. “Did I leave my contacts in last night? Did you stay here? What even happened?” 

Ben shook his head, sliding the plate over to Richie as he sat down. “Eat first. Then I’ll answer your questions.” He waited for Richie to dig in before continuing. “You probably did. That was my bad, I didn’t even think about the contacts. Sorry ‘bout that. And yeah, I stayed here. Helped you get to sleep, then slept on the couch. Not as comfy as a nest, but omegas make do.” He smiled, leaning against the counter. “Bev’s at work. We figured it’d be better if I was here instead of her, with the heat and all.” Richie opened his mouth, but Ben spoke again before he could. “You went into heat last night during a set, but we got you in the car in time. I don’t think anyone noticed.” He glanced away, and Richie immediately sat up straight. 

“Ben…” he said warningly. “Are you sure? You know people are perceptive. And people talk. What about Jason? He have any clue? Did he call or text?” God, if people found out...it could ruin his career. He’d worked so hard to keep his presentation a secret. It was careless. A stupid mistake like that could’ve destroyed everything. 

Ben chewed his lip. “People have been talking. But nobody important. At least, not that I’ve seen. You know how these things go. People talk, but it blows over in a day. Don’t worry about it. Seriously. Especially not right now. You know how badly stress affects your heats.”

Richie scoffed. “Don’t remind me,” he muttered, stuffing more eggs into his mouth. “Thanks for breakfast, Ben. I’ve got it, though. I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.” He grinned up at him, eggs poking through the slight gap in his teeth that braces had fixed and then a lack of retainer use promptly returned. 

“I know, but you know I just wanna look out for you. I can take off work, if you need me to,” Ben offered. Richie shook his head and held up a hand, his mouth full. “Okay, but text me if you need anything. Food or toys or--”

“I’m good!” Richie interrupted, his face burning hot. “Thanks, Ben. I’ve got it,” he repeated, and the other man chuckled. “I promise I’ll text, okay? Now, get outta here. Go work at your fancy firm.” 

Ben smiled and ran his wrist gently over Richie’s cheek. He shivered, the omega’s scent relaxing him. Ben walked towards the front door. “We’ll see you in a week, Rich. Good luck.” He looked sadly over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. 

Richie groaned when Ben disappeared. He hated the pity. He knew it was hard for the romantic omega Ben was to hide his feelings, especially when it came to mates, but he hated feeling like he was looking down on him. Ben didn’t mean any harm by staying the night, or making him breakfast, but it made Richie feel like a bad omega. He was supposed to be doing that for his own alpha, not making another omega do it for him. 

Richie usually had at least one drop per heat, which he knew wasn’t normal or healthy. It wasn’t something he could control, though. He didn’t want to start taking an anti-drop medication in addition to the suppressants, either. It would just make it worse when he inevitably forgot. He had to be careful with what he thought about. It was far too easy to fall into a drop, and it wasn’t fair to Ben to have to take care of him every time. He was incredibly empathetic, more so than the average omega. Richie knew it took a toll on him every time he helped him through a drop. There wasn’t much he could do, though, when Richie locked the apartment and took the spare key from above the front door. It was better if he just holed up in his nest and rode it out. He didn’t eat or shower, but he didn’t do anything worse than that, either. 

Richie forced himself out of his train of thought.  _ Thinking about dropping won’t do anything but make it happen, _ he chasisted. He finished the food and put the plate in the dishwasher, just in time for him to double over with excruciating cramps.  _ Get to the nest. You’ll be okay if you get to the nest. _ He tried to straighten up, walk, anything, but the pain was too intense. He managed to sit down on the floor, feeling slick run out of him and spread on the hardwood. He whined in embarrassment, but it wasn’t like there was anyone to see him. He leaned back against the kitchen island and spread his legs, pushing three fingers inside himself. He moaned, but it wasn’t enough. He needed his dildo. His already heat-hazy brain didn’t understand, however, why he couldn’t get it. “Please, I need it,” he begged the air. “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be good, I’m sorry, just gimme it.” Frustrated tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he pushed his fingers deeper inside himself. “I’m not bad, I’m not.” 

The pain felt like it would never end. It crawled into every crevice of his brain, curled around his intestines and squeezed. It pushed sobs from deeper than his throat, from a place he didn’t even realize he had. His fingers weren’t enough to stop it. 

_ please please make it stop ill be good im sorry please  _

_ im a bad omega no alpha will want me _

_ i need it to end i c a n t t h i n k _

_ s t o p i t  _

* * *

Richie didn’t know how much time had passed when he finally came to. He hadn’t even remembered passing out. The light had changed. It was too bright. He felt like his senses were both muted and turned up to 100. He couldn’t see a foot in front of him, but he could smell the leftover bacon on the plate in the dishwasher. He wanted to curl up in his nest. For the first time since he woke up, he realized that the pain had subsided. Still, it felt much too hard to get himself standing. His legs felt like nothing. He didn’t even know if he had them anymore. With tremendous effort, he grabbed the countertop above him and pulled himself up. “Come on, Rich,” he grunted, pressing his forehead to the cool granite. “You’ve got this. One foot in front of the other, yeah?” He took a deep breath and stepped away from the counter. Well, at least he still had legs. And feet, apparently, because they stepped across the room toward the bedroom, more of their own volition than anything. He was sticky and sweaty all over, but he barely had the energy to climb back into bed, much less shower. 

He felt better when he got into the nest, if only minutely. His eyes weren’t burning anymore, but he still couldn’t see. Richie sighed heavily and pressed his face into the pillow. It smelled like Ben. Like a mated omega. Claimed. He made a noise of disgust and threw it off the bed.  _ Nobody will ever want you like Bev wants Ben. _ He had only his own clothes balled up and strewn across the bed.  _ Look. No alpha to give their clothes to you.  _ Richie cast the shirts out of the nest too.  _ No alpha wants you. Nobody does. You can’t even get another omega. Pathetic.  _ He felt a frustrated scream bubbling up in his throat. He pressed his face into the mattress and let it out.  _ If only you had an alpha to calm you down. Too bad _ . He screamed again.

Richie’s fit took all his remaining energy. He fell back into a restless sleep, much less comfortable without a satisfactory nest. 

* * *

_ Richie was standing at the end of a dark hallway. He didn’t know what was waiting for him at the other end. All he knew was that he had to keep moving. He couldn’t see where he was going. He didn’t know how long the hallway was. He just had to put one foot in front of the other. He felt someone grab his wrist, but he couldn’t look behind him. He didn’t want to see what it was.  _

_ “Richie…” a voice hissed, sounding both familiar and completely alien. Richie shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut even though he knew there would be nothing to see if he opened them. Hoped there would be nothing. “Richie…don’t ignore me. Face me, coward…” _

_ Richie kept walking. Eventually, the hand on his wrist slipped away, and so did the voice. He slowly opened both eyes. Nothing. Nothing but more darkness.  _

_ “RICHIE!” Bev screamed, and Richie ran. He prayed he wouldn’t trip. “RICHIE! HELP!” God, where was the end? He suddenly saw light in his periphery and skidded to a stop, practically tripping over his own feet. He turned back. That was his mistake. _

_ There was light coming from everywhere, and yet somehow, it wasn’t blinding. It was the sight in the middle that was the worst. _

_ Bev and Ben stood there, the strangest set of twins. Their eyes had no light in them, their skin no color. They held hands and slowly began to approach Richie, eager and foreign smiles on their faces. Richie stumbled back. “Where’s your mate, Richie?” they cooed, their voices in perfect synchrony. “We’re happy together. We’re mated. Where’s your mate, Richie?” They continued to chant, the words seeming to burn into Richie’s brain as they got closer. Richie hit something solid behind him. He was trapped. _

_ “Where’s your mate, Richie? Where’s your mate, Richie? WHERE’S YOUR MATE, RICHIE?” they screamed, their faces suddenly distorting, jaws unhinging and mouths opening wide. There were so many teeth… _

_ Richie turned away. He reached out and hit nothing. The wall had disappeared. Without looking back again, he ran, and kept running until the voices of his friends--were they his friends anymore?--disappeared too. Finally, he hit another wall. He nearly sobbed in relief as he found a doorknob and turned it, opening the door and closing it quickly behind him.  _

_ The room was small, lit by a single bulb above a mirror. It was the same one Richie had hanging in his bathroom, except there was no sink below it as there should have been. Richie slowly approached the mirror, his fear increasing with each step. And yet, when he looked in, there was nothing but his own reflection. He touched his face and sighed in relief. But then, his reflection began to shift, the glass rippling like water. Richie hadn’t moved, but the hand on his cheek moved to his neck, suddenly choking him. He couldn’t breathe. His reflection was somehow choking him as a smile, just like the ones Ben and Bev had, spread across its face. “Where’s your mate, Richie?” the reflection parroted. “Poor Richie, poor Trashmouth, no mate for the poor omega. Too weak to be an alpha, too loud to be an omega. Where do you fit, Richie? Where’s your mate, Richie?”  _

_ Richie could only watch in horror as the smile spread up to his ears, and his jaw suddenly unhinged. The reflection crashed through the mirror with a shatter of glass, lunging for Richie. “WHERE’S YOUR MATE, RICHIE?” _

* * *

He awoke with tears streaming down his face and a burning need between his legs. At least this time, he had the dildo. He didn’t even care about moving it this time. He just had to be filled. But it still wasn’t enough. It never would be. With his ass up in the air like an omegan whore, Richie fumbled for his phone on the nightstand. He didn’t remember putting the number in his phone, but it was there. He pressed the contact with a shaking hand, although he could barely see it, and held the phone to his cheek. 

_ “Hello?” _

“I need you.”


	6. Eddie

“Hello?”

_ “I need you.” _

When the phone rang at 5 p.m., Eddie figured it was just another client. He didn’t recognize the number, but he only had the numbers of a few of his regular clients in his phone, so that wasn’t anything new. What was new was the sound of panting coming through the speaker and a voice that sounded both familiar and alien. 

“Richie? Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, biting his lip. He didn’t know what was wrong, but if he called  _ Eddie _ instead of someone he was actually close to, there must have been some sort of issue. 

_ “Eddie...please...need you.” _ Richie’s voice sounded strained, and there was a wet sort of sound in the background. Eddie furrowed his brows, but then his eyes widened.  _ Holy fucking shit _ . 

“Richie...are you in heat?” he asked cautiously. “I don’t want to invade your privacy, but--”

_ “Yeah, heat,”  _ Richie agreed, slurring the words, and Eddie felt his stomach drop. So he  _ was _ an omega. God...oh, God, he couldn’t do this.  _ “Eddie, I need you so bad, please please tell me you’re an alpha, need you to fuck me so so bad.” _ Eddie hated the way his dick perked up in interest. His instincts couldn’t help it. Here was Richie,  _ an omega _ , begging for Eddie to come breed him in the middle of his heat--but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. Richie clearly wasn’t in the right mind, and that was enough for his erection to flag. 

“Richie,” Eddie started delicately, pinching the bridge of his nose, “we can’t-- _ I _ can’t do this right now. You’re not thinking straight. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” Just saying it made his stomach churn. He really didn’t want to turn Richie away...but he had to. He absolutely had to. He wouldn’t be one of those alphas that took advantage of omegas in heat. He could never live with himself if he did. But the resulting sob from the other side of the phone just turned his stomach even more. 

__ _ “I’m a bad omega,”  _ Richie hiccuped, the wet sounds in the background slowing.  _ “You don’t want me ‘cause I’m bad.” _ Eddie sucked in a breath. This was an omega drop, or the beginning of one, at least. Just like how to recognize a heat, he’d never experienced one in real life, but he remembered learning about it. When an omega was in heat, they were more sensitive to emotions, both good and bad. Everything was magnified for them. So if Richie felt inadequate, it would hit him much harder than it normally would. But Eddie wasn’t his alpha. He didn’t have an obligation to help him through it. He shouldn’t. It would just create a bond that Eddie couldn’t handle having right now. So, even though his stomach twisted and turned so much he felt like he’d throw up, he took a deep breath and answered.

“Richie, you’re not a bad omega,” he said calmly. “I have your manager’s number. I’m going to hang up and call him. I’m sure he knows how to help you. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Sniffles came from the other line. Eddie waited what felt like hours for Richie to answer. Finally, he mumbled,  _ “Jason’s a beta. He can’t help like you can.” _

__ Eddie sighed. “I’m sure he can’t, but I’m not your alpha, Richie. I don’t know why you chose to latch onto me, but I’m not your alpha. You don’t want me. You just knew that I was an alpha and called…” He trailed off. Richie had no idea he was an alpha. Which meant he had just called  _ Eddie _ . He couldn’t let himself think about that, though. Not right now. He had to focus on getting Richie help--that wasn’t him. “I’m calling your manager. Goodbye, Richie. Good luck.”

_ “No, wait--!”  _ But Eddie had already hung up. He swallowed and exhaled slowly.  _ Jesus Christ. This man will be the death of me. _ He scrolled through his recent calls until he recognized the number of Richie’s manager and called him. His heart pounded harder with every ring.

“Jason Lake, manager of Richie Tozier, how can I help you?”

Eddie grimaced. This was going to be awkward. “Hi, Mr. Lake. It’s, uh, Edward Kaspbrak from Kaspbrak Chauffeur Services?”

“Mr. Kaspbrak, of course! To what do I owe the pleasure? Did I forget to pay you for last time? My apologies--”

“Uh, no,” Eddie interrupted, feeling a headache coming on. “It’s actually about your client, uh, Mr. Tozier? You see, he, um, called me with an issue regarding his heat, and I don’t really feel comfortable interacting with a client in that way. I was hoping you could go to his apartment and check on him? Not, um, to  _ interact _ with him, but just, you know, make sure he’s doing okay. I suspect he might’ve been in a bit of a drop.” 

There was silence on the other end, and Eddie cringed. He tugged at his collar, feeling suddenly suffocated. Finally, the man responded, “Of course. I’ll go over right away. Thank you for calling, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

“Thank you--” Eddie began, before he heard the click on the other line. “Alright, then,” he muttered. He let the phone fall out of his hand onto the couch and let out a long sigh.  _ He called me. Not me, an alpha. Me. What did that mean? _ He didn’t want to get too deep into it. Richie was in heat--Christ--and obviously not in the right state of mind. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine as he recalled the sounds in the background of the call. Richie had probably been fucking himself. He pressed his palms to his eyes. “No,” he said firmly. “You’re not going to think about that. It’s sick. He was vulnerable.”  _ But you jacked off after watching that video of him yesterday.  _ “Shut up!” He was glad nobody was here to watch him argue with himself. He glanced over at his phone and picked it back up. “I need a drink.”

Fifteen minutes later, Eddie was at a crowded bar, loudly complaining over a pint of beer. “I mean, who the fuck does he think he is? I’ve driven him  _ once _ . I saw him at a diner and had a five-minute conversation before I had to go. And then he thinks he can call me out of nowhere in the middle of his  _ heat _ ?” Nobody around him even batted an eye. He could almost guarantee that there were at least fifteen other people in the bar talking about heats or ruts. 

Stanley shook his head in disbelief, sipping his own martini. “I don’t know, Eddie. That seems more like alpha behavior to me, but, well, he’s in heat. So. That’s a pretty good indication he’s an omega. Do we need to call someone about it? An omega keeps stalking you?”

Eddie swallowed a big gulp of Guinness and waved him off. “No! He’s not  _ stalking _ me. He just got my number from his manager, probably. It’s not like he’s showing up outside my house and begging for me to take him.” 

“No, he’s just calling you up and begging for you to take him,” Stanley countered, smiling dryly over his glass. “I don’t really think we need to call the cops on him or anything. But you should talk to him when his heat’s over. Or when he’s in a lull, at least. Can think straight.” 

Stanley was one of Eddie’s only friends, and he was shocked he’d stuck with him for as long as he had. They met in college at the first meeting of their campus GSA. It was probably the strangest experience Eddie had ever had--up until now, maybe. Not only were they a mix of sexualities, they were a mix of presentations. It was certainly interesting to meet all the people there, but more than anything, it had taught him to be more accepting. He’d met asexual alphas, single omega parents, betas dating another beta  _ and _ an omega. It was like nothing he’d ever seen growing up in a small town in Maine. He was glad he’d joined, though. Not only did he meet all those people, he met Stanley. When they first talked in their sophomore year, the alpha had been going out with his girlfriend for a year. Patty was also an alpha, which Eddie had learned firsthand was not the easiest for either of them. They loved each other more than anyone Eddie had ever met, though, and three years later, he was the witness at their courthouse wedding. They hadn’t needed a big celebration; they always said their love was bigger than any party could’ve held anyway. Eddie found it sappy, of course, but also endearing. They were living proof that Eddie didn’t need an omega mate. He could be happy with whoever, as long as they were in love.

Eddie sighed. “I guess you’re right. I just--I can’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t know I was an alpha. And he’s famous. And probably rich. He could have anyone he wanted...but he called me.” He finished off his beer and raised his glass to the bartender. “I just don’t get it. Why did he call me?”

“Have you considered the possibility that he  _ likes _ you?” Stan suggested. He hadn’t gotten halfway through with his own drink. “Maybe he just didn’t care. You know that omegas in heat can’t hide anything. Drunk words are sober thoughts, right? It’s the same concept.” He raised an eyebrow at Eddie, who flipped him the bird. He laughed. “I mean it. Not even talking about you. We both know that you’re plenty honest when you _ are _ sober. If this guy--Richie, right?” Eddie nodded, smiling at the bartender as he slid him a full glass. “If Richie called you during his heat, wanting you to help him with it, he probably really does. You know what Patty says. Sex is--”

“Sex is a gateway to true emotions,” Eddie parroted, rolling his eyes. Patty was a sex therapist, and Eddie had heard plenty of her sex-based proverbs in casual conversation. She was always urging him to open up to other people, and Eddie always sweetly responded,  _ “Over my dead body.”  _ It was too hard. Too complicated. And Eddie was too busy for a relationship. Especially with a famous comedian whose nickname was literally  _ Trashmouth _ . “I’ll talk to him. But only to tell him to back off. I can’t deal with that kinda shit right now.”

“When  _ can _ you deal with it?” Stan challenged. It was one of the things Eddie both loved and hated the most about him. He actually questioned what he said, made him think about it. He didn’t let Eddie get away with a thing. 

“I don’t know, Stanley!” Eddie said in exasperation. “I changed my mind. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Let’s go to a strip club.” Stan laughed, and Eddie’s face turned more sour. “I mean it. I’ll find some omega to hook up with. Get my mind off him.”

Stan stood up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. “Fine. Let’s go. I’ll call you the cab.” He started walking away, and Eddie sighed, staying where he was. Stan turned around and raised both eyebrows, feigning surprise. “What? You don’t want to go sleep with an omega prostitute?” he deadpanned. He sat back down. “Seriously, Eddie. Just talk to him. It’ll do a lot better for you than trying to fuck him out of your head.”

Eddie glared at his friend, but didn’t argue. He just took another sip of his beer. Goddamn Richie Tozier. He was going to ruin his life. 


	7. Update

Hello everyone, 

First off, I'd like to say thank you so much for all the support even though I haven't been active and posting. I love reading the comments and knowing that people are still seeking out and enjoying my content. Second off, I'd like to apologize to those of you who have been eagerly awaiting my next update, since this is not a new chapter but rather a hiatus announcement. 

I haven't been feeling the motivation to write for a while, and right now I'm really not in a place where I feel comfortable continuing this story. This is not a goodbye or a permanent end to Lily and Linen. I do plan to come back to this eventually. This was a story that I was excited to write and am probably the most confident about out of all the fics I've published on here. I would love to continue the story when I am in a better headspace to do so. In the meantime, feel free to read and reread these chapters, leave comments and kudos, and if anyone has any theories or wishes for how the story will continue, I'll be keeping an eye out so that I can reply to all of them! Thank you all for your understanding. I hope you're all staying healthy and safe out there!

**Author's Note:**

> if you like this so far, check out my other works or visit my tumblr at @transrich  
> comments>kudos, reblogs>likes  
> mwah ty for reading!


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